At university, I took a creative writing course. One week, the class was run by a successful Scottish poet. Someone asked whether the poet’s work was cathartic. She rounded upon him:
“This is my art,” she said. “But it’s also my job. A poem doesn’t appear to me in a vision. I write it, then rewrite it, and rewrite it again until I’m happy with it. Writing is my craft, and the more I practise, the better I get.”
This has stayed with me, and given an enduring appreciation for people who make things from scratch – who turn paper, clay, chocolate, leather or whatever into something that’s beautiful, useful or both. It’s not merely a recognition of their talent or the finished object, but the hours and years of practise that have gone into mastering their craft.
Luxury brand Hermès honours this spirit with its Hermès at Work exhibition, which came to Jack Poole Plaza last week. Most of us probably know the brand for its eye-wateringly expensive Birkin bags (at least $10,000 each) or luxurious silk scarves. Behind these are the makers, people who use traditional techniques to create these objects with their hands. Ten artisans from nine different métiers (trades) appeared at Hermès at Work, including a saddlemaker, silk printer, leather worker, watchmaker, glovemaker, porcelain painter and gem-setter. Attendees got to see classic objects being produced, and were able to talk to the people who were making them.
Leatherworker Marie Prigent, who has been with Hermès for more than a decade, told me her initial training took two years. “I started by learning to sew using two needles – first, straight lines in black thread on black leather, then white on black, then curved shapes. I did only this for months,” she said. “At the end of the course, I had to sew an entire bag from start to finish, within a certain time-frame. If it was not perfect, I would not be employed by Hermès. Around 100 people started my course, of whom nine went on to work for the brand.”
At the event, she demonstrated how to make a Kelly bag. This takes around 50 hours, or one week’s work, from start to finish. She also showed the Constance bag, which is so difficult to make that leatherworkers are not allowed to learn until they have worked for the brand for 10 years. Every Hermès bag is checked four times before it is approved for sale. In addition, each craftsperson has a unique mark that is stamped on the bag so if it’s faulty or damaged, it can be traced to the person that made it. Prigent has made hundreds of Hermès bags, but owns just one, which she built for herself. It bears her mark and below it, a shooting star, which is reserved for a piece made by an artisan, for an artisan.
“Collectors often ask me whether they can get a bag with a shooting star. I always tell them no!” she said.
In truth, unless my circumstances change beyond all recognition, I’ll never own an Hermès bag. My love for the brand will have to be expressed through ogling its glorious window displays and buying perfume – Hermès is one of only a handful of brands to employ an in-house nose. But its existence, and the exhibition, serves as a reminder to us all to appreciate the makers, the doers and the workers, no matter their métier or medium.
